Having had a slight case of impending wantedness as well as a work crisis, my new life as a PC has been a bit fraught. Yesterday, owing to having dragged myself painfully from the grave and seen what effect that had on my fingernails, I shot someone who was entirely guilty of, erm, unlocking his own room. This morning I'm feeling much more alive and alert, though, and since Chief Powell decided it would be politically expedient to redeem me for killing a few incompetents, I went out hunting.
First stop was New Hall. I shot A. S. Sassin, who left her door unlocked, at 8.00am. With rubber bands. I suspected her of being a Baby Seal, and I'd brought spare clubs especially, but in the event I just like shooting people better.
Then I went to John's at 8.10am. The slightly feared Evelyn Knight who has been said to be quite hard to kill, had left her door a bit open, and was still in bed. I shot her with rubber bands too. She would apparently have been removed from the incompetence list soon, but leaving one's door open is never a good sign of deserving the title "competence". She was definitely a Baby Seal. I wish it didn't look like I deliberately attacked the Baby Seals Mafia rather than anyone else, because I didn't, and will and try to kill someone who isn't fluffy and big-eyed as soon as I've done some work.
The former corpse who has now had a shower, cleaned her fingernails and feels as good as new- thanks to the mysterious workings of Fate.
Alas - Evelyn Knight was only on the list through an error (specifically, hers - in not telling me that she was competent despite several warnings, and two days presence on the list), and had been removed late the previous night. As a result, in the interests of fairness, I cannot allow the kill to stand.
Little Miss Naughty counts, though:
Unfortunately I made the terrible mistake of leaving my door unlocked this morning. An assassin took advantage of this fact and entered my room at 8 o'clock this morning. Please note that this is a time that many arts students rarely see. The entrance of the assassin at this time in the morning took me completely by surprise and as a result I am now well and truly dead!
This morning I found a very obvious poison pen letter in my pigeon-hole. Upon opening it (taking the proper precautions of course) I discovered that my would be assassin had not even the common courtesy to sign his attempt.
I've had two kill attempts made on me by Poison Letters. The first seemed to have something sprayed over it, but I've a cold and can't smell anything. I didn't notice any actual powder.
Poison leters working by scent don't work this term, anyway.
The second letter I received was from Alex Cairns and I opened it by the corner, suspecting poison. He said it was poisoned, but upon rubbing my finger and thumb together, I didn't notice any on me so I think I got away with it :)
You did indeed.
By my count that makes 6 people who would have died had he put more contact poison on his letters - I think some sort of award is probably in order (incidentally, nominations for awards are gratefully accepted).
Went to the mail room this morning, for the first time in about a week... after all, the weapons shipment arrived last tuesday - what else do I need to check mail for? There was an envelope from 'Oxbridge Recruiting'. I chuckled and threw it straight into the bin along with the rest of the contents of my pigeon hole.
We all know that its all fun and games until someone looses an eye, and tonight the fun definitely ended when PC Ug Gug lost both. As he had refused to stay dead, The Internationally Wanted Top Terrorist shot him once in each eye at closest range, splattering his brain all over his room, again. I did what I had to do, no acts of terror for a week now - what better way to show myself to the world then killing its 'police'? Who are just bullies for a completely illegitimate government in Washington anyway, I do not fear them or their Great Leader. Anyone who dares to oppose me will burn in hell for an eternety.
Killed by a poisoned letter yesterday. Can't remember his name but used
Oxbridge recruiting as a cover.
Alas! Alack! Damn.
11.00 to 11.10- Lurk with PC Avada a little way up the road from PC Vengance Will Be Mine's lecture.
She doesn't walk that way. Damn.
11.15- Have short break from incompetent tracking and go for coffee.
11.45- Resume lurking with Avada outside Harriet Groom's next lecture.
12.01- PC Vengance Will Be Mine arrives, with shady looking friend. She starts to climb the
steps up to the lecture theatre. Avada's shot hits her in the shoulder as
I knife her in the chest. Either way, she's well and truly dead. Again.
Vengeance, in fact, was ours.
Sir Svoen O'Bjoernchoester Samuel J. Mc Hoelzhauer Yirteen-blimps-ahoy! Wilsoen and I lurked around for Harriet Groom, in various places, for a bit and eventually ambushed her outside lectures and shot her simultaneously. It was fun.
At aobut 12 O'Clock today, I, PC Dove did engage in a running gun battle with infamus criminal master-mind James Wright. Having sat through two lectures eyeing each other up I proceded to follow him out to the bike park. Alas! when i did pass through the double doors and see him standing there, smug grin in place, hand in pocket. Fearlessly did i draw my weapon and a gun battle did ensue around the pillars of the lab, however the strong wind conspired against us, and though we both came close, neither hit. The Choadst Pirgayte LeChoadk, knowing a better pistol shot when he sees one tried to flee, so i pursued. He stopped, and i fired. There was an awful 'click' noise, and i realised i was out of ammo. Flight seemed my best optoin, so we did run back the way ew'd come, with him in pursuit of me this time. I dodged into the bike shed, and reloaded, while we circled each other slowly. He did reneter the building, muttering something about an 'explosion', and i followed. I did try to solicate the help of Miss Gnomial-or the person i thought was miss gnoomial - but (unsuprising) they denied all knowledge. Mr Wright did then leave, and seizing a second pistol i chased him down the road, until i could see that a cycle is a faster mode of transport than my legs. So i did return to write this report.
Following a lengthy gunfight with PC Dove at the William Gates Building, LeChoadk soiled his pants. But his pants were not the only things that were soiled.
Yesterday at 12:40, I caught up with the officially public Peter Beentje following a period of perusal by himself of the latest Varisty publication... Hoping it would be last living look at a recently redesigned broadloid, I darted after his turned back and ran a knife through it... before realising the walking Peter Beentje was already deathly cold, dead in fact, which he revealed with a hearty laugh shortly afterwards.
He also soiled PC Dove's door handle with magical contact poison
On returning from lectures i discovered contact poison (mint flavered variety) on the underside of my door handle. i quickly discovered that i had (foolishly) left my plastic gloves inside the room, and so had to decontaminate my door handle using the cling film from the kitchen. Although no note was left, one cannot help but wonder if Mr. James Wright, having been beaten once already today by me, resorted to fouler means....?
Today at about 4:00 a member of the guild approached me and informed me that he may have evidence the Chief of Police is corrupt. While Mario's exemplary service and large gun persuade me that such a thing is impossible I feel I have no other choice to report it to the party's concerned.
At this time I would like to reitterate both the force's policy on corruption: Bullets, and the hypothetical proceedure for dealing with evidence that a senior member of the force is corrupt: Take it to the umpire, not me.
I believe I have done my part and will leave the matter in the hands of those more directly concerned with such things. Furthermore I woud like the umpire to confirm that the contents of this e-mail and the events contained within do not constitute evidence for corruption of any kind and Mario can't shoot me for it because I've done nothing wrong.
A mildly disturbed,
PC Edith
I believe that Mario choose not to interpret this as a sign of your corruption.
As I was passing Wolfson College, I stopped in to kill Sandra Leaton Gray in the hopes of furthering my cause for redemption with Fate. Also my lizard was very hungry and everywhere had sold out of crickets. PC Hanch was in with her door open and fortunately no children present, as the lizard prefers them.
I came in and pointed a gun at her. She looked very surprised, and her various comments will not be repeated because similar ones are believed to still haunt Fate. The lizard then attacked, with customary gusto. I left fairly soon after that because no pets are allowed in student accomodation.
There I was, raising money for the developing world, when I was brutally assaulted with a novelty lizard. This I was quite relieved about in a sense, as I came very very close to bringing in my four-year-old today, so even if the pleece are brutal and violent, at least they have a heart (aaah!) Sadly I am such an utter incompetent at this game I didn't even realise I was incompetent. Hence before my untimely demise I missed the opportunity to do a deft left flick with my poisoned wet wipes (plus I've run out of latex gloves after my attack on Eliot - don't ask)! This has meant that I determined to rise from the grave and win next term. Ha.
Many incompetents don't - which is no defence, of course.
They'll be dancing in the streets of Honolulu tonight when they here that ALOHA! has claimed it's first victim. Ongoing tensions between Hawaii and mainland USA erupted last week when the US tried to reduce the number of tie-dyed shirts Hawaii was exporting to Europe. As a result of the break down in communications, the USAF was sent in to pacify the resistance, but with unforeseen consequences. The island state had guerrilla fighter, Simon Ford on their side, and he was able to strike back against Uncle Sam. The victim was Maverick who was thoroughtly grounded thanks to the power of Kit Stone. Maverick's dodging was second to none, and meant that several only hit his wing tips. However, two were direct hits on the fuselage, and brought the pilot crashing down to earth. Maverick's body was recovered from the wreckage and found to be none other than movie director, Jonathan Carpenter. ALOHA! wonders whether which high-profile movie director will be the next to fall following the death of John and Michael Mann; we hope it's Steven Spielberg.
bugger...got shot by Simon Ford sometime after 4...shouldnt have been working...shouldve been out killing....bugger
I'm too pissed to give a report so I'll do that tomorrow. I hoe he was a legal target though, as I'm also too pissed to go on ra page against police officers...
Luckily, you get to sleep it off in peace.
Ah, I see, mail from my secret bio-warfare research lab in Kazakhstan, codenamed 'oxbridge-recruiting'. No doubt it will contain a sample of the new strand of anthrax I had custom-made to dynamically adapt to evil US scientists antidotes. Knowing no fear, I opened it with my bare hands, but after searching the letter carefully for several minutes, I could not detect any of the poison mentioned in it. Someone has failed here. Some heads back in Kazakhstan will have to roll...
In the bomb I placed on James Wright's door, I had poisoned a bottle of cola - he almost fell for this trap today but unfortunately smelt it before he drank. Foiled again!
Yesterday at 19:00 I was amused to find a very suspicious-looking letter in my mail. Taking the package back to my underground laboratory, I carefully opened with the aid of a twenty-foot robotic arm stationed inside a vacuum dome hovering above a custom-designed superconductor array to discover that it was, in fact, poisoned. The letter has been burnt.
After quietly spending some time playing snakes and ladders in a friend's room, I was startled to see Roger Benson enter the room. I quickly got out my trusty pellet gun and fired at him - hitting him in his arm as he deflected the bullets. He turned and fled before I could follow him.
I went again to attempt to kill Roger Benson, but as before he was out. So on my departure I left a small present, a contact poisoned box. The whiley boy is never in and this time he was out at 21:00 on a Tuesday night
Okay, I got back to my den to see a box of persil tablets on my... OR SO
I THOUGHT!. Aha, a wild imagining screams across my cerebral processes,
perhaps it's a bomb?? It does stink of vaseline though... well, it IS a
washing up power box... but now, with my
head near the floor looking under it... and now that I look it IS smeared
with some sort of invisible paste. Well, better safe than sorry, it could
be a bomb after all. So I carefully manuvered open the lid and saw the
mechanism inside, which I removed, and threw on the floor. Nothing
happened, that was my second clue. Dismantling it now with my super-duper
gloves on I find my third and final clue... 'This is not a bomb, it ios
covered in contact poison'. So now that box of persil tablets which, if we
are honest, reflects on all our lives, resides in the bowels of Trinity
Hall, where only the binmen and hardened criminals such as me dare to go.
C'est La Vie!
I went into his unlocked room to find the corpse sitting at its desk. Good job it wasn't alive as my gun misfired. Apparently Poisonality had got there first.
Yes! At last! Justice has been done! Having spent the previous quarter of an hour doing my washing up (it was getting desperate) and panicing taht he would come in and find me, i saw a suspicious character knocking on some doors in the BBC. He came back and saw me reloading my gun, so asked whether i lived on this floor. I replied that i did, and he asked me if i was peter. When i foolishly replied in the positive (ah! the benefits of hindsight!) he chuckled and left. Paranoia set in. I tried to follow him, and thought he'd gone down to see james wright ( a door was left swinging), but he was not there. So i walked back through the kitchen, thinking to creep up behind the suspiscious character. However, in the kitchen was The Choadst Pirgayte LeChoadk! We both froze, however my gun was pointing at him, and his was in his pocket, so i shot him. Repeatedly. With glee.
Right, I had to go, and when you gotta go you gotta go. But there's ppl come to see me, so I tell them where they can go. But they don't. So my friend comes out to help, I goes through the door with my trusty 98% bullet-proof shield, after a protracted gunfight I die, I think I quite severely mauled one of them though, who knows, not me, I'm dead :).
That last 2%'s the killer, huh?
I was busily at work when one of my associates called to let me know that he was barracaded into his room, by several people. On arrival I found that the Chief of Police had deserted his safe hideout. I came up behind them as a fierce firefight was raging between them and Ghost Of. Unfortunately I was not in time to save his life, but I exacted quick revenge of his death, but emptying my shotgun into Mario from 3 foot range, and my pistol into PC Vash the Stampede's back from point range. The both died instantaneously, and messily. The Binford Mafia lives on!!!
By some fluke, the CoP was not actually hit by any of the pellets, but concussion caused by a blast at such close range was quite sufficient to hospitalise him. Doctors say he will be well again at 15:00 on Saturday. (Until then, he has non-player status).
For this viscious and unprovoked attack, as well as supporting a known criminal, Escrivitor Karavas is made wanted.
PC Potato was also present - in a somewhat less than legal capacity:
PC Potato would like to report the death of the CoP and PC Vash the Stampede at the gun of Escrivitor Karavas. Having received a distress signal from Roger Benson, we hurried to his aid, to find Mario and PC Vash the Stampede besieging his room.
While they were distracted, Escrivitor Karavas emptied a gun into both of them at the same time - one into Jonathan Hogg's back and one into Mario. Both of these attacks were within spitting distance so it is impossible that this storm of lead failed to kill both of them.
It should be noted that the Binford Mafia are responsible for these killings and as such, this is a Mafia takeover of the police force.
Well, firstly it should be noted that this is slightly illegal, and that PC Potato is now wanted for corruption.
Secondly, it should be noted that the Binford mafia has not yet executed a successful takeover - for they still have to remove the CAttAC, who has assumed control of the police, while Mario is hospitalised.
Citizens are advised to secure their houses, and hope for the best. It looks like change is in the wind.
General Powell's report has reached us:
PC Vash and I decided to pay a visit to the wanted criminal Roger Benson. We reached his floor, and knocked on his door. After a brief conversation between him and PC Vash, it became pretty clear that he wasn't going to come out. Oh well. As we were about to go down the stairs, PC Potato (who was suspected to have links to the Binford mafia) appeared from below and greeted us.
During the quick chat that ensued, I spotted someone's head peeking round the corner of the stairs. The head in question must've seen the gun that was preemptively pointing in that direction already because it disappeared pretty quickly. Down went Vash and myself -after 'politely' asking PC Potato to go first, of course- and found the once upstanding citizen Escrivitor Karavas.
Literally as we were about to get out of the area, I heard Benson's door opening in the floor above. So I raced up the stairs and got into a relatively well covered firing position. Vash soon followed, while the other two stayed in the landing below, barely in our field of vision.
Benson emerged behind a large shield - my first few 9mm rounds bounced right off it. Change of tactic: Vash shot his legs off, while I took a shot at his head, which grazed his forehead and should've knocked him unconscious, hadn't he been some sort of beast on painkillers. As he repositioned his shield to guard off further headshots, Vash scored a perfect hit to his chest. Yet the beast carried on, screaming "I'm alive! I'm alive! MWAHAHAHAHA I'm invincible!". As we tried to convince the indomitable creature of its mortality (both by being reasonable and by shooting at him), I noticed a strange movement below us...
'Shit!' I thought. Escrivitor Karavas had whipped out two small pistols, and fired them at Vash (who was crouched about 5ft from him) and at myself (who was standing, partially covered, at about twice that distance). I saw blood spurting from Vash's chest as the bullets tore through him, and at the same time I felt my right tibia being shattered, and my left arm being pierced at the elbow and forearm - at which point I instantly dropped my left-hand gun. Some more bullets whizzed right past my head and into the wall, and just before crumbling to the ground I brought my right-hand gun to bear at Hamm and fired off my last three rounds, barely conscious.
It is very likely that he was only wounded, or that it was the obviously corrupt PC Potato who got shot instead... all I could see were hazy shadows, and lots of blood everywhere, and the floor suddenly rising to meet my face, and much darkness, and light at the end of a tunnel, and the tunnel suddenly turning into a large black tank with SWAT painted on it. And the voices... the voices... the voices... they're calling my name... they want me... they're echoing through my head... they're saying...
'...you hear me? --- General? --- Are you alright? --- Shit, he's pretty bad. --- General? General? General? General? General? General? --- Will he live? --- Yeah, I think he'll be alright. --- Pretty bad... pretty bad... pretty bad... pretty bad... --- Addenbrookes? --- No, not safe enough, we'll take him to the Police Surgery --- live... live... live... live... live... LIVE!!!'
PC Vash the Stampede reports:
Proceeding to attempt the termination of Ghost Of the Chief of Police and
I arrived to knock on his door. We found the bedder doing the room next his.
However after a quick discussion we decided that following him into the
criminal's room may well be illegal and was beneathe us anyway. Hence we
knocked. There proceeded the usual interchange
"Who is it?"
"Us!"
(Quiet peroid)
"What do you want?"
"Its easier talking face to face!"
At this stage a note appeared under the door. For safety's sake we didn't
touch it. It clearly read "Go away!"
We didn't. Then, noticing the arrival of other parties downstairs we went
down to investigate, after establishing that we were police and attacking us
was liable to make them wanted. There we found PC Potato and Escrivitor Karavas.
We stood and talked for bout 30seconds, dithering and deciding whether we
should just run out the college. We though to ourselves, "No! PC Potato will
restrain his over eager associates" and indeed he did when we ran up the
stairs as the wanted criminal opened his door, bearing a shield. However we
were attacking from two differnet levels. He immediatly lost his legs, but
failed to fall over, instead lifting his umberella to fend off head shots
from the CoP. He then got shot under his shield by PC Vash, though by this
stage he had apparently been killed by a shot in the head from the CoP. Odd
how corpses continue fighting. At this stage Escrivitor Karavas came up the stairs, two
guns blazing, apparently shooting me in the back from point blank range,
though I didn't have time to notice as I suddenly died.
The CoP managed to dodge most of the bullets, however it was not healthy for
him to get so close, apparently.
Unlike Taz, who just sits in his room all day (or whatever), refuses to come out, and lets others do his dirty work, I just made an attempt. A message requesting Taz to commit suicide was placed in his pigeon hole, not because I was scared of going to his room (the idea is totally preposterous), but because he refused to open his door during the last attempt.
I can say all this completely safe in the knowledge that such a disorganised rabble as the Baby Seals are no threat to me. Like, what are they gonna do about me? Try and shoot me with a cap gun? Ooooh, that hurts!
Having finished my huge amount of work I decided to visit my targets. On the way to Girton I stopped off at New Hall to visit Little Miss Scatterbrain. It was my brain that was scattered because after knocking on her door and there being no response, I was followed by her as she came out of the room next door.
As Cripps once said, why didn't I just run? Anyway, I heard the click and then felt the shot in my back. I fell to the floor and this alerted a nearby passing PC who promptly shot her for bearing weapons.
I believe it is custom to say 'bugger' in this situation.
It was approaching half 4 when i decided i was fed up with the heat of the office and needed some action. On a suspicion of some bloodshed in New Hall I decided to rock up there and check out the area. My long journey to the beyond was well worth while as I was witness to a killing in front of my face. I had no option but to remove the murderer, who I later found out to be a certain Miss Charlotte Wing. Well, the world is now short of two more assassins.
Something I think we should all be thankful for in these dark times.
I had just left my neighbour's room, ready to pop off to my supervision
in town when I saw 2 rather suspicious looking lads walking down the
corridor towards me, one of them carrying a gun behind his back.
I walked straight past them and watched while they knocked on my door.
Obviously, I didn't answer, as I wasn't in there, so they made off down
the corridor again.
"Aha!" says I , "A chance to kill my own assassin! Sweet!" And so I
followed them halfway down the admin corridor, where I executed Miss
Gnomial with a single shot to his back. Much blood, much mess. Sam the
college cat (standing nearby) was not impressed and slunk off to lick
himself clean. Why I did not kill his accomplice too I do not know.
Better wanted than dead, which is what I was a few seconds later.
"Can you do that?" I asked, choking back blood.
"He's police" replied the ghost of Miss Gnomial.
"You were openly displaying your weapon" replied the PC. Before I had
the chance to ask his name, it all went black and...
I recently heard about a possible player living on my own staircase. I ambushed him on the way back from the toilet. Apparently hes not playing - this does not make him any less dead.
(Name removed to protect the victim's Family.)
Having been prewarned about a group approaching my room, I espied a policeman placing a bomb on my door - needless to say I didn't open it, but hurried down to catch them. They were, however, many - and I decided not to take them on alone. I trailed them instead and pounced on them as they neared their home base, and were off their guard. I killed one, and wounded another, then made my escape.
It was a close run thing, however. I would not have made it if it was not for an unknown assassin pouncing out on the light support weapon carrier and shooting him in the back before melting into the night. I barely escaped with my life and made my way home - better in the knowledge that the police force has been reduced by 2...
Wounded was PC Bulldog:
I have seen much in my time, but none so harrowing as the tale of wasted vegetables that I shall regale to thee today:
Being an active seeker of Great Justice, I did relish the opportunity to join the ad-hoc SWAT team assembled by PC Cooperi, consisting of himself, and the newly appointed constables Gnomial and Confused. The plan was unclear: it involved apprehending the criminally insane Escrivitor Karavas, inhabitant of that hotbed of insanity, Trinity Hall. We departed equipped with a CPS, several RBGs and a great lack of TLC.
It later emerged that PC Cooperi had developed an extremely large bomb for this end. I followed cautiously whilst he ascended the stairs to the target's headquarters: the entrance was heavily booby-trapped, but prevalence and dumb luck saw him through... many traps were unarmed and not in the least bit dangerous. Grim box of explosive misery in hand, he attached it to the madman's door, cackling with ecstatic gleeful pleasure. The scene resembled that from a film everyone remembers but nobody can name (but it's pretty certain that actor, wossname, was in it, remember him, looks a bit like Brian Blessed but without the eyebrows oh never mind).
We departed the scene, crossing our fingers that this plot would pay dividends (and work as well). But mere seconds away from our safe haven, there were shots from behind! It was the criminally insane Escrivitor Karavas, escrititing ancient Karavasian obscenities as he unloaded his pistols of Painful Orange Death! Daniel Kenyon Jones was standing in the wrong place and collapsed in a pile of sinew and rubber. I myself felt the Orange sting of Pain, and gurned in discomfortitude.
Gnomial charged forth, CPS in hand, uttering the legendary Curse Of Fatal Death known only ot the Gnomial clan. The passers-by watched in consternèd bemuselment as this potential clash of empires came to an abrupt end as Gnomial was shot by an unseen assailant! Shock! Horror! Punctuation!
My final action in this grim tragedy was to use the police training I had so gratefully received by my previous department. From out of my sleeves came the Knife Of Orange Carrot Resemblance (marked "KNIFE!" for ease of recognition) and flung it with the last of my strength. But my mind was fading fast and I fear it missed the mark. With the bit of strength left after the last of it had gone, I crawled back to my abode, and dressed my wounds with all I had: twenty-one Wetherspoons ketchup sachets and a box of crunchy-nut cornflakes.
I live to fight another day... but in memory of my lost carrot I devote the remainder of my life to the promotion of vegetable rights: for Great Justice.
And all present verily did report that 'twas a mighty fling of the vegetable. Luckily PC Bulldog will live to carrot once more.
A couple of them mentioned the fact that police shouldn't be bombing wanted criminals, too, but it seems PC Cooperi was a little too dead to suffer appropriate chastisement.
When my associate Matt Johnson informed me about an attack on him, I grabbed my guns and met up with him. He had been trailing the attackers for quite a while and they were slowly approaching Emma. We decided that he would attack his assassins as soon as they would walk around the next corner. I would wait at that corner to ambush anyone following him with visible weapons.
They disappeared from our sight, Matt sprinted after them, while I took up my position. Then I heard several shots and moments later Matt came running past me. Shortly afterwards a guy with a supersoaker followed and was executed. Then I ran away, because I didn't know, how many of the attackers were still alive.
Two, and one wounded, as it happens.
In my new found role as a PC I was informed of a bomb placing raid about to take place at Trinity Hall. I, and several other police officers were asked to go along to provide support (well just to look scary actually). Anyway, after having several funny looks from the porters we left after having set bomb.
As we were walking back I was alerted to an attack from behind. As soon as I turned I pulled the trigger on the CPS and grazed Matt with a sprinkling of water, as I ran closer I got him more then he turned and ran away.
PC Gnomial then pursued into Styx's ambush.
In an attempt to remove not only Matthew Garrett, in case he was playing, but also the 80% of players who are actually him, doing impersonations, I shot him this evening on the way into a talk. Unfortunately he wasn't playing, but it was fun all the same
Escrivitor Karavas shot me repeatedly outside the Hopkinson Lecture theatre at around 8:30 tonight, without any sort of provocation. This was a little unfortunate, because I was supposed to be giving a talk at that point.
Matthew Garret was totally innocent of everything except having a name so like the Umpire's that the porters keep putting mail in the wrong places. Escrivitor Karavas should probably be thanked for making their job easier.
A good assassin always checks his list before making a kill:
1) Make sure you have a weapon, loaded, preferably more than one, preferably
big, preferably messy.
2) Make sure you are alive. There are various scientific tests for this
which I can supply if necessary.
3) Look sweet and innocent, or failing that look lethal and invincible.
4) Always carry spare underwear.
5) Make sure you've got the right target.
Alas I forgot to check point 5), and so I walked into the crowded bar where
I knew the target was, on a reconaissance mission, and saw the back of
someone I thought was my target. I walked out the other side, loaded my gun
in my bag, and walked up to my target. I called his name to ensure it was
him, and I assumed by his response it was him. Alas no, and he looked
somewhat bemused as I pumped bullets into his body. However he was very
nice about the whole thing given his medical condition, and invited my true
target over so I could finish him off. Thus I did, and the incompetent Matthew Swarbrick is no more, but the honour of the kill had gone. Matt didn't seem
too fussed about his death however, and he was starting to lose faith in the
assassins of Cambridge given how long he had been on the incompetent list.
I suspect nothing has changed.
At least the underwear held out.
You are hereby made wanted for the death of an innocent. Since it was an honest error, redemption is possible, start by killing three incompetents (or wanted criminals). Matthew Swarbrick counts.
Having collapsed several days ago in my room due to excessive fatigue and the shock of being told that I had been poisoned, I woke up groggily this morning in my perenially messy room with the letter beside me, and a complete complement of answerphone messages waiting for me. Not sure of what was happening, I donned a pair of gloves, and subjected the offending article to a careful scrutiny, finding only a thin layer of dust. To further test for safety, I tore off a tiny piece with my glove and chucked it out the window in front of a pigeon. The pigeon, being as dopey as anything, completely ignored it and buggered off. On arrival of a new pigeon, I chucked out another piece, which was promptly swallowed. No ill effect seemed to come to the pigeon so I removed the letter to a skip and took a dose of stimulants to clear away the last vestiges of sleep.
The perils of not actually using much contact poison. That makes 7 non-kills, and 0 kills.
On the morning of Thursday 7th February 2002,at about 08:38am, whilst having breakfast, I noticed a suspicious female character hovering around my College house car park. She was returning to her bike from the direction of my house, and she kept looking over her shoulder. I found this to be very unusual. I had a good look of who she was without her seeing me. I would have launched my attack then if I had my weapons ready for the kill. What a chance I had, and it flew past me. Unbelievable! Anyhow, she had dropped off a brown envelope front facing down, with no proper seal. I did not touch it. I went into my bedroom, closed the door and thought of what I should do next. Then, at that moment my roommate came out of her room and went to check her mail. I noticed she had quite a lot of post this morning which was spread on the floor near the brown envelope. In her excitement, she hurridely opened her post, and accidently opened the brown envelope without checking who the envelope was addressed to. Bang!!!wack!!smash!!! with a dying loud scream. She was scared out of her wits. Her hands were covered with white powder. I had the ordeal in cleaning up the bloody mess (wearing black leather gloves, full proof against poisons), and found a piece of the card bomb written with x Simon Ford. By the way, I washed the gloves with water and detergent afterwards. I survived the assassination, and I am ready to hunt down my targets and those who were after me!!!
Well, there's good news, and there's bad news.
The good news is that you are 'competent' once more. The bad is that you are wanted for the death of your neighbour - you really should have been more careful...
Killing three incompetents will redeem you.
It turns out that our Organised Crime Liason Officer was responsible.
The suspicious looking character reported by Proeliator? Sounds familiar to me....
I think I might have left him a letterbomb at some point this morning. About 8.40ish. He could have ambushed me, I guess. I invite him to try next time, as I had a great many guns on me and would have liked to get in.
I am sorry to hear of his neighbour's death.
I am finally dead - shot on the way out of lectures, would you believe! I was just leaving the lecture theatre, when Agent Reider Stigest followed me out. I tried to dodge round a corner, but came accross a door, opening the wrong way. Not enough time to get at my heavier weaponry, I turned, drew my pistol and fired, but he already had his gun out and fired virtually simultaneously. His bullets impacted, fatally, leaving no-one left behind, and the corridor gradually pooling with blood.
Agent Reider Stigest is to be commended for his actions in removing this criminal menace.
A Reading from the book of the Canteloupe, Chapter 5
'1And as was the fashion at the time, it came to pass.
2And what came to pass was this - that the Canteloupe did vow to
rid the world of heinous inefficiency. 3And so the Canteloupe did
journey to St. Catherine's College, with the purpose of smiting one Richard Nicklin from the land. 4And lo, in his travels he didst encounter
a multitude of helpful and obliging people. 5First, he came
across a porter, who was kind enough to enlighten the Canteloupe as to the
visage he should expect. 6Next, he encountered a helpful student
who directed him towards the darkness of E. 7 Lastly, the
Canteloupe did discover an acquaintence of PC Big Gary, who didst demonstrate
the infidel's door, and provided useful information regarding lectures, and
libraries. 8And the Canteloupe gave thanks.
9However, an hour did pass, in which the Canteloupe didst knock
on the door multiple times, 10and did stand guard over the East
Gate, and over the door of the indicated library; 11but alas, PC Big Gary did not appear. 12Disheartened, the Canteloupe didst
return to his hermitage, but vowed to seek Richard Nicklin another day.'
Here ends the 3rd lesson.
Agent Borge W Gush's intelligence told him of the corruptness of a policeman. Arming himself with his best arms, he proceederised up to the door which he opened with great force by twistyturning the knob. Pistolling the PC with his pistol, his pistol jammed. Sorting it out with cleverness, he shotted again by which time CP Confused had shot back simultaneously. Splatteringly we both fell to the floor, leaving a Confused Gushing mess.
A Victim of Circumstances has died. His corpse was discovered in a sealed room lacking any windows, with the single door bolted and welded from the inside. His head had been neatly severed from his body, which was lying some metres away, and was revolving slowly on an antique gramophone. No weapon, poison or any other means of destruction was found in the room. Although documents revealing the high level of corruption at the top of the police force are rumoured to have been found on the body of this unfortunate, no such papers were to be found by the time an international monitoring squad arrived at the scene. An unofficial source stated 'I hate these smart-ass suicides'. It seems intrinsically more likely, however, that he was slain by a large green monster with an enormous scythe, who escaped detection by hiding behind a hydrogen molecule.
Dave has been a bad boy so I called the dwarves to me and set them dancing around the coffee mug of joy Round and round and round they danced, capering and chanting as I added each ingredient.
"A clove of garlic,
A pint of guinness,
Half a jar of marmite,
And a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down."
My wife, Dave, snatched up the mug before it was ready and glugged the lot! She whimpered with delight and rage then turned white with salvation. Her moistened tongue went pop, her silky beard caught fire and she crumbled like a packet of biscuits that have been sat upon by a red headed child.
So I scraped her up, popped her in an envelope and posted her to Dave....
This was found beside the corpse by PC Potato:
My neighbour and esteemed colleague, Escrivitor Karavas, (recently deceased), received a very impressive poison letter today, purporting to be from NatWest. The lack of stamp on the outside automatically aroused his suspicions, and being dead he felt entirely safe in opening it. Sure enough, it was poisoned, but the letter was read and we were impressed by the idea of £1500 worth of Accidental Death Insurance. Bit late for that, though...
Today at 16:45 I killed PC Neil Morrison. It was quite easy. I knocked on his door, he opened, I asked him if he is Neil Morrison, he said yes and then I shot him.
I'd make you wanted, but...
(Well - just see below.)
Once again, the honour of the guild has been destroyed by the murder of Benoit Vicedo, the legendary international football maestro. In truth, Sunset G. Bablyon was unaware of his police role, having been appointed pseudo-posthumously. Thankfully, Juan Ramiresh was on hand to take control, smoothly opening the chamber entrance whence some cad appeared with a water boglin (although the villain should note that officially, immortal Highlanders can only be killed by chopping off their heads.)
And so they died (except Sammo Hung, who was too invincible to be killed).
At 15:00 a bomb with a rather simple door activated detonator was placed outside the room of The Crippled Son of a Bureaucrat. Hopefully someone is scraping her off the ceiling as we speak.
had the meanest bomb I've yet to see on my door today - or rather, it would have been mean had it worked the way it was supposed to work. Which is kind of funny, since I'm still not certain how exactly it was meant to work.
So, the technicalities - be warned, this is going to be LONG - go as follows:
Came from lectures at about 18.15 and spotted the nasty little thing. Two bottles, taoed together with some kind of little blue cardboard box (with a little speaker protruding - ominous), with plastic-coated wires sticking out and going under my door, where I spotted an odd makeshift detonator somewhat reminiscent of a mousetrap.
The whole thing looked really alarming - I'm not surprised my neighbours had left it alone.
Now I don't know anything about electricity, but I suspect the detonator was supposed to go off by a piece of copper wire dropping down (it was leaning against my door) and touching another copper wire, which in turn was taped to the red plastic-covered wires going inside the blue rectangle with a little voicebox).
I didn't have a clue how to start disarming it, because I didn't know how it was supposed to work (and also, cutting the wires might not have been that good an idea) so I borrowed a long string (mine was inside my room - stupid of me), checked the blast radius (2,5m), attached the string to the bottles, retreated and pulled... nothing.
The bomb had just fallen down, the trigger with all the bluetack trailing after it. I approached cautiously and looked the bomb over. Nothing... I proceeded to pull it along the floow a bit, just to see whether I could make it go off, but still... nothing.
Now I lost my patience and went over, opened my door and got the gloves out, as well as scissors and some other random stuff. I cut the blue box off the bottles (it was only held down by two pieces of loose tape), certain that there would be another trigger somewhere as the bomb was too good to have been made by an amateur. I discovered that the box actually had a lid, which had been sealed shut with a rubber band. Hmm... Holding the lid shut, I cut the rubber band as well (I was so nervous you wouldn't believe it), and put the box VERY gently on the floor. It was still attached to the bottles with the wire, as well as to the apparently dud detonator, so I didn't want to get adventurous. I retreated again and proceeded to pull the bomb (with the string) along the corridor and over some minor bumps, and finally! An all too familar *BANG!* of a good ol' cap trigger.
So the second trigger was under the lid of the box (and went off when the lid fell down), which in turn was a part of a secong detonator (the dud one) with batteries and all kinds of engineering things inside. I removed the wires from the battery, 'cause I still wasn't certain it wouldn't go off at some point, and I'm fairly certain I have finally defused it. This bugger took me over half an hour to deal with!
It has "**** *******" written on it all over, except that the actual writing says just 'see you in hell'. :)
Kal:
Tonight we went out to assist The Wages Of Sin in his redemption for the killing of an innocent. He killed Sorin Basca using the age old technique of knocking on his door and shooting him.
I am writing my last letter. I don't really like hell, but i'll give it some time, maybe I'll get accostumed to it (it is warmer than Cambridge). I was talking with some of my new colleagues and we started talking about our death. Mine was long and painfull. I opened the door to The Wages Of Sin and he aimed quite well and got me.
The list of sins in life was decisive for condaming me to 1,568 years in Hell: Killing two policemen and a target (it happens), driving mad a police officer, being part of a mafia (I told them THERE IS NO MAFIA) and working under Windows 2000 (this was decisive). So I got here. Now I have to go, it's 21:20 and we have to go to the daily torture (it's nothing compared to lectures and supervisions and practicals).
Phoenix was also there:
Tonight my colleague Kal and I did go with the The Wages Of Sin to support him during this difficult time. He did go to the infamous Sorin Basca and yea he did shoot him when the infamous one did open his door. It brought a tear to the eye- twas so clean, just one shot. Then he did go to the valley they call Cats for to kill an incompetent police officer.
After my unfortunate little mistake the previous evening, my target was to kill 2 incompetents/criminals to regain my high status. However the list looked daunting, with most members in safe houses around the city. The exception was Sorin Basca/Taz, who had been my target since the start of the game. He had been a redeemed criminal, survived a police stakeout or two, several poison letters and kill attempts, and although he was currently resting in the realms of the incompetent, he would be a tough target. My extensive research revealed that he was a 1st year mathmo/compsci, which came in handy, as when he replied with the totally unoriginal "Who is it?" to my knock, I replied that I wanted help with some maths. There was a silence, I pondered whether I would be the one to finally break into the lair of this master assassin. My colleagues waited nervously. Finally the door opened just enough for me to fire at him, and I was delighted with a direct hit first time, a pleasant change from the night before. The door slammed shut, was I to be denied? No, after Kal's mighty diplomacy, he gracefully conceded the kill. I feel that the guild will not be the same without him.
So, I wait for news of whether I am elevated to the grand order of bog-standard assassin, or whether I must remain in the gutter of criminal activity. Quite an exciting week really.
Redeemed, you are.
THIS IS BIG GARY. BUSY EVENING. THREE ATTEMPTS ON MY LIFE.
1.) 7.00PM LETTER BOMB FOUND IN PIGEON HOLE - CAP FAILED TO DETONATE
(THANK THE LORD).
2.) 9.00PM (APPROX) BOMB FOUND ATTACHED TO DOOR. DEFUSED BY CUTTING
DETONATOR STRING ATTACHED TO DOOR JAM. HEARTILY COMMEND DESIGNER FOR USE
OF CONTACT POISON ON THE BOMB - V.CUNNING, HOWEVER USE OF CHEMICAL
RESISTANT GLOVES WHEN HANDLING SUCH TOYS IS A ROUTINE PRECAUTION. BAD
LUCK.
3.) 10.00PM (APPROX) POLITE NOTE FROM EXTREMIS FOUND ON DOOR INFORMING ME
THAT SHE HAD VISITED WITH INTENT TO KILL - BAD LUCK.
BOMB COMPONENTS MAY BE RETURNED AT A LATER DATE IF SATISFACTORY SECURITY ARRANGEMENTS CAN BE AGREED.
NOTE TO RACHEL - I AM WATCHING YOU.
The bomb should be returned to me, from where it will make its way to The Wages Of Sin.
I just wanted to make it absolutely clear that I have once more asked Taz to commit suicide. This was certainly NOT because killing him would require planning on a large scale (something I'm easily capable of).
Right, firstly, I had a very nice lie in this morning, before leaving for my hardware practical an hour early. On the way to it, I found that Matt Johnson had died, which was a minor relief, but it still left loads of friendly Caius players out to get me.
Anyway, I got a bit of work done up in Cockroft 4. At about 2 oclock, my lab-partner arrived and we got started. Shortly afterwards, a corpse arrived. I believe he used to be called Matt Johnson. I was immediately suspicious, but I greeted him, he greeted me, and he sat down at a nearby computer. Anyways, we ploughed our way thorough this practical. Matt seemed to be doing not-very-much on the computer, but this didn't really concern me.
A slightly more worrying thing was that he always seemed to be keeping an eye on me. As we were nearing the end of the practical, the most corrupt Mike Cripps also appeared, and started communicating with the corpse. Unfortunately, this was a no-kill zone. Otherwise we'd have had two corpses. Probably.
So we finished the practical, and started tidying up. Matt started typing a text message into his phone. We got our work signed, and made for the door. The text message was sent. Then the very same corpse rang someone up.
I obviously assumed the worst, so I simply delayed my departure from the building by a few minutes, and headed to my secret hideout, where I remained for a while, before heading back towards Emmanuel.
Ed Clayton
I'm quite sure it was all perfectly innocent.
Mr. Umpire,
Are police capable of cold-bloodly murdering other police
officers?
I was under the impression we were although we would become wanted
for it. Under this impression I shot Ed Clayton and Jenny Chase outside
lectures this moring (11:00 ish, they turned up slightly late) with my
Standard issue Detective Special. My reasons for this are reasonably long,
complex and thoughly without logic of any kind. Basically I had too much
coffee, not enough sleep and a severe lack of attempts on my life (well
apart from the two that actually worked...).
Currently the way I see the situation is this:
a) my bullets did actually kill both officers resulting in their death and
some mess for the cleaners. This means I am very much wanted.
b) My bullets hit but had no real effect and both officers are alive. This
means I am wanted for the attempted murder of a superior officer, that and
misinterpreting the rules.
Either way I am wanted. This suits me fine, I invite all assassins to try their luck by making repeated attempts on my life, they are likely to suceed. Very shortly I will put up my timetable and photos on my site again to make their task easier. Yes I have a death wish, a pyscotic and insane death wish. Muhahahahahahhahahahhaha!
Edith the Sociopathic Hutt
ps. I do hereby apologise to Jenny and Ed for any discomfort or upset caused by shooting them and then buggering off to a practical without the customary cup of tea and chat that usually follows a kill. I feel really guilty about this, please make me wanted for not being polite.
pps. Meh. Just noticed the kill didn't count, well I might as well go kill some random innocents. Ho Hum.
ppps. Sorry everyone. Please kill me (not you Tom!).
As you surmised, no kill - they weren't legal targets.
Our Acting CoP:
As I arrived at my lectures this morning, I noticed the familiar face of one of my fellow police employees. This wasn't unusual, as said policeman, James Bowe, is often outside my lecture theatre as I go in. Coming from another direction, I also saw Jenny.
I greeted them both, and went to grab some lecture notes. PC Edith the Sociopathic Hutt pulled out a small gun, and fired two shots, the first at Jenny, the second at myself. Unfortunately, the shot bounced harmlessly off me, as I was well out of range for such a tiny weapon.
Am I also correct in believing that because PC Edith is police, he couldn't actually kill either of us. Neither Jenny nor I had weapons drawn at the time (both had hands in pockets/bags, of course).
And the OCLO:
The Acting CoP and myself were walking calmly into a lecture theatre, and saw PC Edith the Sociopathic Hutt waiting outside. This is not at all unusual, so I stopped to say hi. The CoP hung back a little towards the lecture room door. James Bowe then pulled out a cap gun and shot at both of us. Chief Cath Een was probably out of range, but my hair *still* stinks of caps. However he's police, and neither me nor Edward Clayton had weapons drawn, so I assume that the only other effect was to severely piss me off.
After backing away, I considered shooting him, but thought it would be somewhat unsporting since he thought we were both dead. Besides, the lecture had just started, and the cap gun shots had disturbed people, so the ACoP and I left in pursuit of new knowledge.
Organised Crime Liaison Officer Avada
"Wisdom is better than weapons of war."
He is made wanted, as requested (how could I do otherwise?)
well I finally actually made a direct kill. Bloody hell I'm inept. Forget his name but he has a PhD and works in the Earth Science department. I then spent 5 minutes explaining how sodding useless I am at the game and why he's dead. Not even worth reporting really.
I approached the top security home of my target. Her guards on the gate told me to abandon all hope, I would be allowed neither into the post room nor into her building. Still, I did not give up. Dreanched to the skin, I stood shivering outside the main door, until finally I snuck inside behind two innocents. Clutching my freshly sharpened knife in my hand I climbed a ridiculous number of stairs, before coming to her door. But curses! She was not in. Still, I hoped that she would not be suspicious of anything that had made it this far into Fort Sidney, and poisoned with my lethal vasaline a bill, which I slipped under her door. This had put me in the mood, and, using my contacts in the college (are you going to plant a bomb?" "No....") , I gained entery to the post room, where I left a poisoned flyer in her pidgeon hole. Hopefully her security (and birthday) will have made her become lax...
I wish to report that I have survived an assassination attempt involving a poisened 'knife' under my door and contact poisen smeared on my post. Whilst I will admit to being incompetent, I am hurt that anyone should consider me incompetent enough to fall for either of these, frankly amateur, attempts!
I tracked out to Selwyn to attack one of my targets, Electric Jellybaby. Stealthily entering Cripps Court (what a silly name for a building) I located his staircase, walked up to his room and knocked, armed to the teeth and fully prepared for a massive assault against a deadly enemy. He wasn't in.
I came back later, and knocked on his door again. He said "Come in". Knowing he had recently been wanted I assumed he may not have got the hang of this game, so I did as requested, guns at the ready. Entering the room a hail of bullets came to meet me, narrowly missing me and doing irreparable damage to his cupboard. Meanwhile I buried a bullet deep into the head of Nasty Nick Bateman. Unfortunately the poster wasn't playing this term.
After exchanging pleasantries, and both deciding that we were very much looking forward to a battle (hint, hint) we went our separate ways. I am sure our paths will cross again; I look forward to finding out whose path then leads straight off a cliff.
I will quite happily advertise, sanction and even attend a battle someone else is running. I don't have time to write it up, so if someone will volunteer, great (I have a couple of unconfirmed offers to do just this, already).
I was sitting in my room quietly minding my own business when there was a knock at my door. I called 'come in' with gun in hand as usual. The door opened, and I was slow off the mark, but fired when I saw his gun. He fired, and I feared the worst, but felt nothing. My bullets seemed to have damaged my cupboard. What a waste of shrapnel. Neither side got a convincing kill. So we both live to fight on.
Another feeble letter attempt was made on my life it was foiled by gloves and a mask
Anon poison letter. Dead.
After waiting outside Sainsbury's for my target (Alex Cairnes) since 17.40, I eventually got bored and went to see what he was doing. The answer - lying on the floor seemingly asleep. I therefore went for dinner, and came back just as he was shutting up shop. Having got his scent I then lost it again as he went into Borders instead of coming down Green Street. I thought I had lost him then for good, and was contemplating running back to his house to set up an ambush there. Then, on a whim I went into Borders. I didn't spot him in there, but as I was leaving I glanced behind, and sure enough he as there. Soon after he was dead...
In a shameful attempt to extend my deadline for as long as possible before poison letters become disallowed, I have sent two. I'm sorry. I just wanted the longest time available to plan my next dastardly deed.
I found a poisoned letter in my pigeonhole at about 7pm yesterday. It was duly removed to my girlfriend's room and opened safely using her latex gloves, iyswim.
The letter was sent by a Dr Boham, supposedly, although I suspect the Johnians.
Yippee! An attempt on my life.
Even better - an unsuccessful one.
At about 7pm I was in my room talking with X, a fellow Baby Seal, when I heard someone knock on my door. I asked who it was and went to my spy hole, but they had gone. Calling Y for reinforcements, we opened the door from the other side of the room, very slowly initially. We discovered a cardboard box outside - after ascertaining that it wasn't attached to my door, we opened the door fully and secured the area, assisted by the arrival of Y. While X and Y (who will remain gnomeless, due to our mascot scheme falling through) watched from a safe distance and ensured I wasn't interrupted, I examined the box.
I would estimate it's size to be between 8 and 10 litres. On the top was written: To [My Name] Room: [Blank]. On two sides were "This way up" and an arrow pointing down; on the other two were the words "glass". Careful inspection revealed no obvious detonator. I then proceeded to dismantle the bomb, cutting into it very carefully with a precision instrument disguised as a penknife. Safely removing the top revealed the box was about 3/4 full of polystyrene packing. I carefully emptied this away, using gloves, until I had removed practically all of it, then using string attempted to blow up the bomb from a safe distance.
Hmm.
Nothing.
The box, which was now on its side, was conspicuously not a fireball.
It seems that the makers of the bomb forgot the detonator; traditionally an essential component.
I wonder whether the bomb layers should be made wanted: - The bomb was approx 8 litres in size, which while not being sufficient to kill me at the end of my room, would have blasted far enough into my neighbours room to destroy the bed, and probably people in corridors above and below me.
- I had to spend half an hour unpacking bloody polystyrene from the thing, and then clearing it up again. This led to me having to run for the buttery to get something to eat. That's a crime.
Well, not strictly, no. But since they didn't get around to telling me, it isn't going to help them stay competent, either.
That git Marwood Bramwell and I then went to Pembroke. We saw Ian Maddison come out of his room and go into the toilet. We ambushed him coming out of the toilet. He was already dead. Darn.
Not that it matters since I'm now a dead copper, but that guy from Games and Puzzles and his 'crew' just attacked me as I was leaving the bathroom.
Then we went to Cats and scared PC Big Gary, but he wouldn't come out.
INEPT KNOCK ON THE DOOR STYLE ATTEMPT, USING FORMER MEMBER CATZ MAFIA AS LURE. NOTE IMBECILES - CONCEAL WEAPONS + SHUT UP WHEN ON STAKE OUT.
]Produced at Sat Mar 16 22:59:37 2002